The firelight flickered in the halls of Rivendell as Legolas pressed Arwen against an ancient bookshelf, their breath mingling with the scent of parchment and elven wine. "Perhaps theOne Ring isn’t the only precious thing you should be concerned with, my lady," he purred, his slender fingers tracing the curves of her gossamer gown before slipping beneath.
Behind them, Aragorn watched with smoldering hunger, unbuckling his belt with a growl. "Let’s see if elves are as immortal in skill as they are in years." He claimed Arwen’s lips as Legolas sank to his knees, his tongue already swirling along her bare thigh.
"Foul demons!" Gimli barked from the doorway—before realizing what he was witnessing. His beard twitched as Arwen beckoned him closer with a sinful smile. "Care to prove dwarven stamina, Master Dwarf?"
Soon, the flickering firelight illuminated tangled limbs on the council table. Aragorn’s calloused hands gripped Arwen’s hips as he bent her forward, Legolas kneeling to lick her clit in time with each of Aragorn’s thrusts. Gimli, never one to be outdone, took charge of her pretty mouth, groaning as her skilled tongue worked him to the edge.
"Aragorn is mine next," Legolas panted against her skin, his own arousal straining against leather. "This fellowship shares all burdens..."
As the night wore on, the only Ring that mattered was the one of Arwen’s tight *beep* clenching in climax, her cries echoing through the halls like a forbidden spell.
from
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